


A Paltry Display

by 1478963255



Series: Humiliation [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Humiliation, Humiliation kink, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Praise Kink, Small Penis, Smut, Subspace, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unbeta'd we die like Glenn, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:50:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23439304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1478963255/pseuds/1478963255
Summary: She had abandoned him. She had been gone for five long years. And yet, when she returned, he remembered how warm her touch was against his body. Even though he hated to remember.F/M relationship. Small penis, humiliation, praise kink, feral Dimitri, anger and mental health issues.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Series: Humiliation [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1620325
Comments: 11
Kudos: 70





	A Paltry Display

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to bust this thing out since I found a lot of Dimitri fanart I hadn't seen before on /feg/ and so, finally, I managed to get this out. I wrote it all in one sitting so apologies for any mistakes or if it feels rushed.
> 
> I guess this might be dubious consent because Dimitri struggled to decide if he wants her to touch him or not? I didn't tag it as such since he does want it, just struggled to admit it to himself. Also some graphic descriptions of violence, but not too bad. Please skim over those if you do not like it. Enjoy and let me know what you think! The series is finally complete!

Filthy. Vile. _Disgusting._

That was what Dimitri was.

A mere shadow of his former self.

No… back then, when he was a young boy, it was all just an act, an intelligent masquerade carefully crafted and so deceptive and convincing even Dedue believed that he was nothing more than a happy albeit naïve prince. Only Felix ever saw right through him.

_Boar._

That was what he was now. That was what he had always been. A beast. _A wild animal_. When he tore the limbs from the bandits who attacked mere hours before, he revelled in the way their blood erupted from their ruptured veins, spurting so violently it coated the front of his obsidian breastplate in a black-crimson bile. He relished in the way their faces contorted in agony as he ravaged them, each face different and more expressive than the last. He would never tire of it.

But they were never satisfied.

_Never._

The voices, constantly calling out to him, teasing, jeering, insulting, mocking, taunting, tormenting, deriding—it never stopped. Even now, in the emptiness of the barren monastery, eclipsed in the darkness where the shattered statue of the Goddess once stood, they called to him. There was no salvation in the shadows, and none to be found in the sun. They were always there. They always would be. They would never leave. Not until her head was severed from her shoulders and he could sadistically enjoy the way it would bounce across the floor, silver hair stained scarlet with her putrid blood.

Dimitri’s lip twitched just a fraction. He was disgusting and he knew it, to want his stepsister dead. But it was all because of _her_ that he was here. It was because of _her_ that his father was dead, his family, his friends, Dedue’s family, and countless other innocents… it was all _her fault._

And he would not rest until he had his revenge.

His body ached. His remaining good eye wanted nothing more than to slide shut and rest, dry and bloodshot, but every time he allowed himself that selfish respite, the faces of the dead swirled behind his eyelid, dripping with blood and rotting away.

He would never know comfort again. He would never know peace nor happiness. Not even when her head would be cut clean from her shoulders. The ghosts would always follow him. Until the day he died.

His ear twitched, like a predator listening out for its prey when he heard it. The soft sound of a heel against marble.

_Her again._

She had been coming to him relentlessly over the last few nights with her disgustingly sweet words trying to coax him to rest, to eat, to bathe. But he couldn’t. Even now, with her presence, and his former classmates, they only served to slow him down. They ‘planned’ and ‘calculated’ their next moves, but it was all for naught. None of it would matter.

She stepped into the monastery slowly, each heel's click a distant and muted echo that Dimitri tried to drown out by listening more intently to the voices of the dead. To no avail.

“Dimitri.”

Her voice. So quiet. So breathless. _So empty._ He could hear how hollow it still was, even after five years, she was as emotionless as ever. A pitiful part of him had hoped that when she returned after abandoning him, she would light up his life like she used to. Be his saving grace, his salvation, his _guardian angel_. Her hair had changed colour, and her eyes had too. But the emotion behind them… no, there was still none there.

“Dimitri.”

Her voice came again, and it grated against him, like drawing an imaginary blade across his throat. It _sickened_ him. How could she be so emotionless, so calm when approaching him, after what she had done? She had _abandoned_ him. He was once her favourite, her precious student, her… _toy._

The prince shuddered involuntarily, an icy wave of disgust coursing through his body trying to combat the simmering heat in the pit of his gut. How _dare_ he remember such fond times. How _dare_ he remember the way she used to look at him and praise him with her words and gentle touch. He no longer deserved it. And he no longer wanted it.

Byleth’s footsteps came to a stop behind him. He could just about smell her; floral, as if she had just bathed, but still reeking of oil, steel and sweat, a permanent scent seeped into her skin. Judging by the strength of her scent, she was still standing some distance away from him.

_“Dimitri.”_

“Leave me be,” he hissed, refusing to turn to face her, instead staring endlessly at the pile of rubble before him. Cool air whipped around the walls of the cathedral, howling through the shattered arches, whipping up dust, rubble and dead leaves. It drew her scent even deeper into his body and he shut his eyes, refusing to allow himself the pleasure of indulging in her smell.

“I will not.” She paused. “You must rest.”

“I will not.” Now he paused. _“Leave me be.”_

“You cannot continue with this behaviour. We are all worried for you. We are beyond relieved that you are alive, many of us thought you were dead.”

“You did not think me dead, did you, Professor? You were too busy,” Dimitri laughed darkly, hollowly, “’sleeping’, as you say.”

He heard her sigh behind him. “I have told you; I do not know what happened to me. It is difficult for me too. I fought on the same field as all of you and then awoke, and five years have passed. I did not—"

“Difficult,” Dimitri echoed, tilting his head back so that his filthy blonde hair fell away from his face and he could gaze up through a gaping hole in the monastery’s shattered glass ceiling. He could see the stars against the canvas of black. “ _Difficult…_ what a pitiful word to use. You think it has not been difficult for us? For _me?_ ”

“Dimitri, please—”

“Do not _speak_ ,” Dimitri spat. He hung his head low, letting his chin jut against his black chest-plate and clenched his fists tightly. He could hear the steel grating against itself as his knuckles tightened.

Her voice was still emotionless, but came stronger, firmer. “I will not allow you to continue to disregard your own wellbeing any longer. You are a _leader_ , a king.”

“Hah, a _king_?”

“Yes, a king, whether you like it or not. Beyond that, I will not allow one of my students to continue to cause themselves harm.”

Dimitri whirled on her, taking one long stride so that he was immediately flush to her body, snarling down at her with rancid breath. How long had it been since he had brushed his teeth? Such trivial things mattered no longer. Byleth stared up at him, without flinching and Dimitri almost regretted looking at her.

She was ethereal. The way her evergreen hair had lightened into something more beautiful, like fresh morning grass, still baby and green in spring made his stomach curl. Her face was as youthful as he remembered, porcelain and smooth and bile bubbled inside of him. Her eyes were bright, wide and doe-like, similar to a pretty fawn… waiting to be captured, killed, slaughtered, _eaten—_

“I am no longer your _student_ , dearest professor,” Dimitri spat, venom dripping from every word. She stared up at him, even when his putrid spittle landed on her cheek when he spoke.

“You will _always_ be my student.”

The man snarled again, rumbling low in his chest but even still, in the face of imminent danger and death, she did not waver. Her brow had pulled down into a determined frown and her arms remained at her sides, hands open and unclenched, free of tension.

“You _left_ us… you _abandoned_ me,” Dimitri hissed low, the angry quiver in his voice making him hate himself just that little bit more. “You deserted me and left me to be killed… you did not come for me… and he died in my place… you did not come for me, nor _him_.” Dimitri righted himself, standing upright so that he no longer leaned down towards Byleth, looking down the length of his sharp nose at her. “You dare continue to call yourself ‘professor’… after how absent you have been.”

“It was beyond my control,” she said, levelled, strong.

“It was, was it?” Dimitri challenged. Her eyes narrowed just a fraction, but he did not miss it. He had never spoken to her like this before, with such disrespect and _hatred_. 

He wasn’t even sure if he hated her. Her actions -or a lack thereof- is what he hated, yes, definitely. But her? _Byleth?_ The beautiful professor who charmed him, cared for him, nurtured him and perhaps even _loved_ him? He wasn’t sure if he hated her. It was as if he could not admit it to himself, afraid that if he did so, he would be so truly lost to himself there would be no return.

Byleth said nothing for a moment. “Rest.”

Dimitri snarled and turned back away from her. She would not back down. She was relentless, he had to admit that and a part of him admired it but a far larger part of him resented it. He wished she would leave. He wished he did not have to listen to the sweet soprano of her voice any longer.

“Leave me be.”

He heard her take a step closer and he tensed involuntarily. She must have gone mad… during those five years of ‘slumber’, she must have completely lost her wits and any sense of danger. She was closer to him now and all Dimitri could do was focus on the pile of rubble still on the floor before him.

“You will always be my student.” Her voice was gentler somehow, more kind.

Dimitri said nothing. He did not even grace her with a grunt of acknowledgement.

“Perhaps then… I should remind you.”

His single blue eye blew wide when he felt Byleth step right up against his back, still dwarfed by his huge frame, and one of her hands wrapped around the front of his body. It cupped intimately between his legs, dipping skilfully beneath the steel plate that hung about his belt to protect his groin.

“What do you think you’re—”

_“Quiet.”_

Her voice was so close, far closer than he had anticipated. Dimitri could feel everything bubbling up inside of him; fear, rage, anxiety, excitement, all coursing through him faster than he could control, thrumming through his veins with immense energy. But not a muscle in his looming frame moved.

“Do you remember, Dimitri,” Byleth said, her voice so quiet Dimitri almost had to strain to listen. “How we used to be? All those years ago… to me… it has been mere days since I last had you begging for me.”

“Cease your prattling,” Dimitri managed out, attempting to sound threatening but his voice cracked on the very first syllable, rendering his threat useless.

“I remember how good you were for me, how you begged me with those pretty lips of yours… how much of a _good boy_ you were.”

Her words turned his stomach and Dimitri wasn’t sure if it was with arousal or sickness. The contents of his stomach cascaded against one another. Her words pulsed inside of him. _Good boy._ Yes. He did remember how she used to call him that all those years ago during their private time together either in her office, the empty classroom, and even her quarters on occasion.

Dimitri wanted to stop her. He did not want this. Her touch was revolting even though her fingers only grazed over the front of his black breeches. But his body was thrumming, so well-trained and remembering how she used to touch him all those years ago. He remembered how even the slightest brush of her fingers were able to draw the most depraved noises out of him and when he thought back, it filled him with disgust.

How could he become so weak? For _a woman_? For _her_?

Byleth’s fingers rubbed over the front of his breeches, finding nothing. She hummed into the thick fur of his cloak, trying to push herself into it, closer to him. “Hmm… some things just do not change.”

Dimitri grit his teeth hard. His fists twitched at his side. “And just _what_ do you mean by that?”

“Your cock. It is still small.”

He wanted to rage. He wanted to whip around and strangle her, make her regret her words and make her wish she had never touched him. But all that left him was a sharp gasp, torn between a groan choke of air, when her words hit his ear. Her hand came to settle more comfortably between his thigh thighs, cupping just his crotch so that his balls rested in her palms.

“Mmh, yes… no change. Your balls are still as heavy as I remember, but your cock… even though five years have passed… you have not changed _an inch_.”

Dimitri wrenched his eye shut. He saw no ghosts nor dead faces swirling behind his eyelid, only darkness, focusing intently on the way Byleth’s hand rubbed back and forth between his legs, rocking him, caressing his balls and rolling them in her palms through the fabric. He knew he ought to throw her off him, leave the monastery and lock himself in a former student’s now-abandoned quarters where no-one would find him for days.

“Don’t—”

“Remember who you are, Dimitri. You are _my student_.”

Her words made him shudder and he bit down on his lower lip to stifle another long and needy groan. He could not deny it any longer. As uncomfortably intimate as her hand was, it was soothing to have some sense of familiarity back. It was depraved. _How pathetic,_ he thought to himself, _that the thing that brings me back is the touch of my former professor’s hand._

Her other hand had slipped beneath his heavy fur cloak and might have gone unnoticed by Dimitri if his sensitive hearing did not pick up the way her perfect nails scraped across the back of his armour. Her hand moved down to his behind, pushing at the steel plate that hung at his backside to caress over the fabric there.

“I touched you here not days ago, Dimitri. Do you not remember the way you begged me to push my fingers deeper into your hole? You were _desperate_ for it.”

No. No Dimitri did not remember. Fuzzy images and long-repressed memories swirled about behind his closed eye. He could not remember what Byleth was talking about… not because he didn’t want to, but because the very thing she said had happened too many times to count. He had submitted to her touch night after night, aching for release, pleading with her for her to touch him anywhere. He could not remember the specific incident she was talking about.

“I… I-I…”

Dimitri could not recognise his own voice. Broken, stuttering and choking on his own words, he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say. _Stop? More?_ He couldn’t decide.

“You are my student, and you will always _be_ my student.” Byleth’s voice dropped to a low whisper, husky and deep, almost unrecognisable to the shuddering prince when the delicate fingers of the hand at the front of his breeches danced upwards just a few inches to the hem of his clothes.

“I will put you back in your place.”

Dimitri could not hold back the groan that escaped him then. Her words coaxed it out of him like magic as her fingers simultaneously wrapped around his small soft cock. He heard her huff a breath through her nose. A laugh.

“As pitifully small as I remember,” she said again. Dimitri’s blood ran cold, but his face burned red. He wasn’t sure how to feel, what to think, how to react, what to say. All he could do was remain rooted to the spot and allow his professor’s comforting and experienced hands to explore his body once more.

“No, no—”

“Mere days ago you begged me to suck your cock, Dimitri,” Byleth breathed, her voice still quiet and stuck behind him, the fingers of her other hand slipping beneath his breeches and smallclothes to cup the firm muscle of his ass, nails sinking in. “You were so pretty, too… all pink lips and tears running down your face.”

“I have not… c-cried… in years,” Dimitri managed out. Why did he even say that? To try and appear strong? _Useless._

“No? I will not make you cry tonight… that will be for another time.”

He snarled. “There w-will not be another time.”

Byleth hummed but wholly ignored his words, hand tightening around his flaccid cock, starting to move back and forth, trying to coax some life into the pathetically small prick. Dimitri choked again, eye flying wide, unfocused and blurred. He could barely see through his own disgusting desire for her hand to touch him more, more, _more._

No. He wanted her hand gone. He wanted to bathe. He wanted to rid his body of her touch, to purge himself of her.

But his small cock stirred under her touch and he sank his teeth deeper into his lip, inhaling sharply through his nose. The fingers on her one hand traced the cleft of his ass, dipping into the crack and she found it bristled with hair and slick with sweat.

“I would fuck you here. I would fuck you open with my fingers, leave you gaping open, wanting for _more_ …” Byleth said. “But I will not touch you _here_ ,” she said, pressing down with pressure against his filthy hole, “until you have bathed.”

His body bucked forward just a little, feet becoming unstable against the shattered marble floor. He wobbled just slightly and cursed beneath his breath, freeing his lip from his own bloody bite. The pressure of her fingers against his tight hole made him flinch and choke on his own saliva.

How could she do this to him? After abandoning him, leaving him alone for five years, how could she simply touch him and have his body reacting as if she had never gone? Dimitri was disgusted and disappointed in himself. He wished he were a stronger man so that he could ignore and shake off the professor’s gentle and warm, _oh Goddess so warm_ , hands. But he couldn’t.

Her hand continued to pump his soft cock, feeling it stiffen just slightly in her palm and he could practically _feel_ her smirk behind him.

“That is what you want, isn’t it? To be fucked open once again by my fingers, having my tongue over your small cock, swallowing every drop of your cum down, just like all those years ago.”

“I-I… I… _fuck_ …” Dimitri gasped, taking a staggered half step forward as his knees buckled at her words.

“Lean forward,” she commanded. And Dimitri listened.

He leaned his body forward, bent at the waist so that his hands came to rest on the piles of rubble of the Goddess’ statue. Byleth tried to curl her body around him, over his back but struggled with his excessively large cloak and his equally large frame. Still, she did her best, slipping partway beneath the heavy fur to wrap her other arm around his body, winding up over his chest-plate to his face. Her hand cupped his chin and he imagined if he were as short as he was years ago, she would be leaning over him to breathe and blow hot air into his ears.

“If you rest, if you bathe… I’ll open you up with my fingers, with my tongue, and any toy you desire. If you listen, just like a good boy, you will be _rewarded.”_

_Rewarded._

Oh, that word ignited something inside of Dimitri. He let out a long breath, half whimpering with want, voice quaking, his lungs burning as he began to pant. Her fingers were barely moving over his dick. They didn’t have to, he was so small, but they continued to work over him, feeling him stiffen more and more as she spoke.

“You do want to be a good boy, don’t you, Dimitri?”

How improper it was of her to call the king ‘a good boy’. He did not answer until the fingers of the hand cupping his chin skimmed up just a little higher to squeeze his jaw. Two long delicate fingers slipped between his lips, her middle and ring finger and pressed down against his tongue. He startled, fingers clutching at the rubble even tighter and he felt it crumble under his grip.

“ _Don’t you?_ ” Byleth repeated.

“… y-yes…” Dimitri garbled around her fingers, tongue pressed flat beneath the commanding yet gentle force against them. Byleth hummed once more behind him, seemingly pleased and she shoved the front of his breeches down just enough so that his cock was freed. The steel plate protecting his groin swung in the air inches in front of his cock but he was so pitifully small she was not concerned with the cold metal connecting with the scorched head of his weeping prick.

“If only you were a good boy for me, Dimitri, I would let you cum right here.” Her words made his fists clench tighter against the rocks. “If you listened and _did as you were told like a good student,_ I would let you cum.”

Dimitri growled in frustration, low and awkward around her fingers in his mouth, his eye wrenching shut once more. He could smell her more now that she was closer to him; a strong smell of weapon-grease, sweat and _warmth_ , pure warmth. He couldn’t describe her smell any other way but _flames_ , he wanted to bury his face between her thighs as he did all those years ago servicing her and inhale her scent. Recommit it to memory.

His breath came out hushed. Byleth pressed closer.

“Did you say something?” She retracted her fingers just a little so he could speak.

“… please…”

His voice was so timid, so quiet, so unfitting that it even made Byleth stop for a moment. Then he felt her fingers return and play with his tongue, trying to coax him so suck and lubricate them with his saliva.

“Oh, _so good, so good,_ ” she murmured into his back, against his armour. “That is what I want to hear.”

Her fingers worked even quicker at his cock now. Only two were needed to wrap around him, her thumb pressed firmly down on top of his length as she pumped him faster. Dimitri’s body shuddered and he wanted to weep.

His body was burning up beneath his armour. He was sweating, could feel it running in rivulets down his back and pooling in every crevice there was. His tongue eagerly worked over the fingers in his mouth, sucking on them, licking them but never daring the bite. He remembered how she liked it.

He remembered how good her hand felt pumping his small cock, how her kind words repeated endlessly in his mind to serve as fuel for his desire, and how her lips felt against his. _Goddess,_ what he would give to kiss her now and swallow down everything she gave him. He had lost his sense of taste years ago but would never be able to forget the taste of Byleth’s tongue invading his mouth and sweeping over every single inch.

“… o-oh… _ah_ …”

Dimitri was moaning. How long had it been since such noises escaped him?

“Better, so much better… you’re doing so well, _so good_ ,” Byleth whispered to him.

“Y-Yes… yes… I… I-I am…” _Good_. He couldn’t manage the final word.

“Such a good boy for me, Dimitri. Your little cock is still as cute as I remember.”

_Good boy. Little cock. Cute._ Yes, yes, those were the words he needed to hear. They reminded him of when he really was her student, just a naïve young prince captivated by the stunning and mysterious new professor who swept him away so quickly he did not realise he was in love until it was too late. Until she was gone. 

“Will you cum for me, Dimitri?”

_"...y-yes, yes..."_

He babbled over and over again, the word ‘yes’ and soft moans escaping his lips. He wanted to cum so badly, the weight of his balls tugging almost painfully, his tongue aching from flicking back and forth over her fingers, now lying flat against the bottom of his mouth as he panted. Dimitri hung his head, ashamed and burning hot, feeling his climax approaching. 

His cock pulsed within her two-fingered grasp and finally her fingers left his mouth. Her other hand moved down his body and cupped his heavy balls, covering them with his own thick saliva as she rolled them about in her palm.

“Such a good boy… you have never truly forgotten.”

“Oh, _oh… p-professor…_ ”

The name escaped his lips before he could stop himself, but a tremendous wave of relief washed over him, as if freeing him from his own prison. It felt _so good_ to say her title. He wanted to be her student again. He wanted to be under her loving touch and gentle gaze. He wanted her with him, forever, without leaving his side ever again.

“Cum, Dimitri. You deserve it.”

“I-I… _oh,_ fuck, _professor—_!”

Dimitri whimpered as he came, torn between a sob of satisfaction and self-hatred, his small cock jumping between her fingers, spurting rope after rope of thick white cum over the floor in front of him. Some spattered against the hanging steel plate of his armour and dribbled down it pitifully, dropping to the floor. His body burned as his orgasm tore through him with more fire than he had felt in years. Did it always feel this good? Or was it simply her absence that made it all the more powerful? His legs shuddered, palms tightening, and he partly shattered the boulders he gripped onto, throat and voice weak and hoarse, letting out small noises like whimpers and gasps.

He could vaguely make out Byleth’s voice soothing him, muttering _‘good boy’, ‘so good’, ‘so proud’_ and _‘that’s it’_ , over and over and he could hear her lips connecting with his back-plate, kissing him through his armour.

His orgasm persisted, pulsing through his cock until the waves slowly ebbed away and he jumped against her gentle fingers still wrapped around his cock. He flinched from sensitivity until finally, her hand tugging at and rolling his balls and working his cock finally slowed to a stop.

Deafening silence descended upon them and cold fear gripped Dimitri. He waited. He waited for them. The voices. The dead faces. He waited for them to return, rushing at him, laughing for his weakness and how pathetic he had been to so easily submit to his professor’s poisonous touch. He shivered again, still hunched over so his hair shrouded his face.

Byleth retracted her hands from him and Dimitri was suddenly left alone. He hadn’t realised how warm she had been until she gone. He couldn’t even feel her body heat through the back of his chest plate but now that she had removed herself from beneath his fur cloak, he felt ice cold.

“Dimitri.”

Her voice was soft, always so soft. And patient. He said nothing, only stared through blurred eyes at the rubble, the shattered floor, and the disgusting puddles of cum collected at his feet. 

_“Dimitri.”_

She paused for a moment, stepping to his side so that she could gaze upon him. He wished she wouldn’t.

“It is time to rest.”

He said nothing until her hand moved in his peripheral and came to his face. She pushed her warm hand beneath his filthy hair, sweeping it out of the way so she could look at him, even when he did not look at her.

“I…” he began.

Byleth turned his face to her so that he had no choice but to stare at her beautiful face. It was cruel how stunning she was. He could never have her. She was above him, untouchable, unattainable for a beast as depraved and disgusting as him. And yet, she still looked at him with such patience and kindness it made him burn with shame. How could she still be so kind towards him, even after everything?

“Rest.”

“… yes.”

Byleth’s lips quirked into a smile and Dimitri swore he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life. His eye trembled in its socket when he saw the pink stain of her rosy lips turn upwards in a smile directed at him. _Him._ The beast king, the vile creature that stalked the cathedral of Garreg Mach.

“However… a bath, I think, is in order first.” Byleth tilted her head slightly, her eyes flitting down to Dimitri’s still exposed cock, hanging pathetically between his legs, cum still smeared over the head. “Shall I accompany you?”

“… yes.”


End file.
